Come With Me
by hannah258
Summary: What happens when lonely Edward bumps into Bella in a world where humanity is no longer?  Crossover between Twilight and The Walking Dead. No vampires. ExB, possible lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

Thank you to the lovely ladies from Sparkly Red Pen, **Angmclure** and **hmmille** who preread and beta'd this first chapter. They rock! :)

You already know it, but still…

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

**C~W~M**

The sun was bearing down on him, scalding his neck and arms. Sweat poured out of every pore of his body, dampening the ratty wife-beater he had on. But it was his backpack, heavier than usual, and his saliva, thickening to glue his tongue to his palate, that prevented him from stopping.

The water he had wasn't nearly enough and he was saving it for Bella; no matter how thirsty he was, he would not drink it. She had to be feeling just as horribly as he was–women dehydrated faster–even though she'd had a sip two hours and twenty minutes before.

Slowing down, he looked back, searching for her. Far away, further than he expected, Bella was dragging her feet through the dirt road, raising dust behind her.

The skyline had turned orange and the sun was almost touching the mountains they had descended in the morning. They were making good time, so Edward figured he could give her the rest of the water. There should be more where they were going – or so he hoped. There were no certainties anymore.

In any case, they had to be arriving in town – Edward was positive they'd get there sometime that night.

So he stopped, waiting for her to catch up to him.

A few wild curls had stuck to her rosy cheeks, and her chest was moving quickly.

"You're tired."

Stopping in front of him, Bella bent over herself, placing her hands on her knees. Edward noticed a small whistle on her breathing as she tried to control it.

"Do you have any respiratory problems?"

Bella just stared at him.

"Bella, do you have asthma?" he insisted.

Bella took a deep breath and held it in. Edward, unsure of what to do, kept staring at her chest cavity.

As she exhaled, Bella straightened her back and crossed her arms. The accusatory glare she threw at him had him feeling like a little boy all over again.

"What I have—" she answered, while her body bent forward in his direction, "is _tiredness_."

Her lips crashed together, forming one thin line.

"I'm tired of following you like a lost puppy. I'm tired of your temperamental tantrums. I'm tired that you don't pay me _any_ attention."

Even though he suspected Bella was truly angry with him, Edward couldn't contain his smile. There was no way he could understand why an annoying little creature made him feel alive again.

"What are you laughing at?"

"I don't pay attention to you?"

With her hands on her waist, Bella snorted. "Unbelievable!"

Edward´s brain took some time to react. When watching Bella stomp in the opposite direction clicked with its meaning, she was already far enough that he had to shout.

But she kept walking away, as fast as her short body allowed her, giving no sign that she'd heard him call.

"Bella!"

He didn't even know what he'd done to cause such a reaction. Well, he knew that he hadn't spoken to her much and had forced her to speed up all day long, but that didn't count, right? They had to stay on schedule, and he'd even given her all of his food and most of the water, after all. He was carrying her personal possessions, which were obviously made of lead, for Christ's sake!

With too much distance between them, she was showing no signs of slowing down. Edward called her name one last time before rushing down toward the blinding sunset. Each time his feet hit the ground she came closer…closer…so close…close enough for him to reach his hand and grip her skinny arm, forcing her to stop with a jolt.

"Bella?"

How many times had he said her name today? Two syllables that rolled smoothly out of this mouth.

No answer. No movement.

Slowly, he lowered his hand. What should he do? He had no idea how to deal with people, let alone temperamental women. If they were talking about a walker, it would be a different story. That, he knew how to handle.

"Look," he started. "You can't just go on your own."

Her shoulders rose. Edward, sensing she was about to answer, kept going, "I know you don't…need me." He tugged on his hair, ignoring how hot it really was. "It's just…"

_I've been alone too long._

"Come with me. Please."

To his relief, Bella turned around.

He could see the tears staining her cheeks while her bottom lip trembled. She was making an effort to stop them, he knew, as her teeth sank down on her bottom lip.

"What's the point?" she rasped.

It hurt. How, he didn't know. He'd been attacked by men, slapped by women, scrunched by walkers. He'd even been shot once. But it had never hurt like this before.

She'd been hurting for a while now, mourning her friends – that much he knew. But the thought that Bella might not want to keep going, that she might not have hope anymore, felt devastating.

He wanted to say something, anything, to make her feel better. He wanted to hug her and hold on tight, to keep her in his arms. He wanted to caress her soft skin and taste her swollen lips. He wanted everything with her, but he kept quiet. He didn't know what to do.

Except… he lowered his backpack to the ground and pulled the bottle of water out of it. It had just a bit left, and he forced it into Bella's hand.

"No," she thrust it to him. "You have it."

With her other hand, she tried to clean the tears. There were angry marks on her arms from the sun; they'd have to hit a pharmacy again.

Edward didn't take the bottle. He took a step back.

The anguish marking her almond eyes told him to lighten up the situation. So he talked about the time he'd snuck out of the house and took his dad's car, only to graze it against a light pole and pretend it hadn't happen. He told her the story about his first date – the girl he'd taken on a picnic and had an allergic reaction to the food.

As he spoke and Bella calmed down, they started walking again – this time, much slower. Edward's hand found Bella's small one and, eventually, his arm embraced her thin waist. She'd laughed out loud when he'd told her how he'd choked up in front of his crush when he'd smoked his first cigarette. Edward's skin burned when Bella's hand closed around his hip, even though the sun was no longer up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Why?" she asked, her tone much lighter than before.

"For everything. I'm not the best to have around."

"Edward." Bella stopped walking.

He didn't want to make eye contact with her, so he stared at the horizon above her head. That didn't seem to stop her, though. Her small hand found his cheek, compelling his eyes to close.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

She had nothing to apologize for, unlike him. But he wasn't about to argue with her for such a reason, not when he felt so good. He nodded his head once, slowly, not to lose contact with her skin, and offered a small smile.

"Come with me."

When she lowered her hand, to take his and pull him forward, he obeyed.

**C~W~M**

**A/N:** So.. You've read this far! What do you think? :p


	2. The Pub

**A/N: **

**Angmclure** and **hmmille**, from Sparkly Red Pen, preread and beta'd this chapter. If they hadn't, it would be a disaster. Thank you so much, ladies! :)

You already know it, but still…

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

**C~W~M**

His muscles were tense.

Bella was sure that if she reached out her hand and poked his bicep, it'd be the same as doing it to the wall she was leaning against. Except warmer. And apparently softer.

_Focus._ She took a deep breath. Why was she thinking about his arm when they were supposed to be checking the place for walkers?

Edward took a few steps forward, moving a tiny bit away from her, knife at the ready, leaving the door balancing on its rusty hinges behind him.

She had a blade of her own which had been thrust upon her against her will. She'd rather have a gun; it was easier to kill the freaks and they wouldn't get so close. Close was dangerous. But Edward said it was too noisy and might draw attention from the walking dead lurking in other buildings, even though the town had turned into a fucking wasteland a couple of years back. They could get surrounded pretty fast. So, knife it was.

_A fucking desert, Bella?_ Not a desert to fuck, just like…a ghost town. She really needed to start speaking properly…or at least thinking properly.

She followed behind Edward, their feet thumping on the hardwood floor the only sound filling up the place. The pub looked empty. Pilfered. Broken. Most of the bottles were gone, the furniture was spread around, half-ruined and half-neglected. Why were they in a pub with missing windows that left gaping holes and offered no resistance to the outside world, when there was a perfectly intact building standing across the street? One with layered bricks where there must have once been a window and a single door that appeared less fragile than the pub's barely hanging on the frame one.

Bella was curious, but she wasn't going to ask. Edward had to know what he was doing, didn't he?Either he had a very good reason to drag her there or she was going to kick his ass. His perfect, squeezable a—_stop it!_

She looked around the space again, everywhere but at Edward. There were no walkers in sight. In fact, she was pretty sure there were none inside the pub at all. It didn't smell like it. Of course, the smell of rotten bodies had assaulted her senses since they'd approached town, letting them know exactly what they were getting themselves into. And after a while, she'd become immune to it, but a rotten body up close stinks. Like, really reeks.

Edward bent over to check under the counter, giving her a nice view of his—_focus._

Was she supposed to check out the bathrooms? It appeared to be the only other room in the place. She chanced a glance at Edward again, who was now engaged in a struggle with some kind of furniture behind the counter. She could only hear metal knocking against wood.

She squeezed the knife's handle harder and walked to the back, towards the door with the picture of a little man and woman on it. He could handle himself for five minutes. A toilet was a luxury that they didn't come by that often, and she was going to take advantage of it since her bladder had decided to make itself known. You know when you feel just fine and don't even remember you have one until you think about a toilet or hear the sound of running water? Yeah, Mrs. Bladder was a traitor.

"If you just…" Edward huffed.

Her body stopped immediately at the sound of his voice, just as her heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. Obviously, her legs hadn't gotten the memo that told them to stop being pussies. Just because the guy talked, didn't mean something was wrong. She looked back over her shoulder; Edward was still behind the counter.

"Why doesn't this open?"

Now he was just plain whining. He actually sounded like a kid who'd dropped his ice cream on the floor. Was he going to start crying next?

It was a good possibility. What was for certain was that her bladder was going to cry if she didn't go to the bathroom.

Bella vacillated between walking back to the counter to help him and going on a quest for the holy toilet. The porcelain throne won.

**~C~W~M~**

"Whew…for a minute I actually thought there were walkers inside that stall."

"What?"

The unruly top of Edward's copper hair showed from behind the counter.

"I didn't think pipes could smell as bad as those things—"

"And…just a bit more…"

_Hmm? _What the hell was he talking about? Had he even heard her?

Bella approached him on her tiptoes, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Kneeling on the floor with his butt up in the air, Edward was trying to pull something out of the floor. The sound of metal hinges creaking and wood giving way accompanied his cries of victory, as if he'd won the world championship. As he sat back on his heels, Bella was able to see what he'd been doing.

There was a hatch in the wooden floor that led into a dark hole. She could only see the beginning of a ladder.

"There!" Edward beamed.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"An old port in a storm. Come."

"What?"

"We're going down there."

He was definitely crazy. "_You_ can go down there. I won't."

"Why not?"

"Are you nuts? There's no light in here! Our flashlights don't have batteries. You can't see shit! What if there are lurkers in there? I know it doesn't smell like it, but you can't go just by that. And how in this shithole did you find an _old port in a storm_?"

She knew she'd regret it as soon as his face contorted, marred by hurt. It was his Achilles' heel and she knew it. She'd known him for all of three weeks, and he'd been every bit as obsessed with safety now as he was on day one, especially hers. Maybe even more.

"You think I'd put you in danger?"

"Of course not," she explained. "Not intentionally, at least."

"I'm almost sure there are no lurkers there. It's… a safe place. But I'm going down first, just to be positive."

_And_…there was the guilt. She was about to speak, but he kept going; as her mouth opened, he rushed.

"You're right. I can't put you in danger like that."

He bent forward and reached his arm inside of his bag, taking a candle out of it. She wanted to go with him, to make sure he was safe, to protect him if need be. She didn't realize she'd grown that attached to him. Maybe it was just the guilt, right?

She felt around in her pocket and pulled out the plastic lighter, sparking it up for Edward.

"Thanks."

She smiled, but it wasn't real. Her teeth worried her bottom lip. Fear, Bella realized, was catching up to her. So, as Edward turned around and placed his foot on the first step, she took a deep breath. The worn wood creaked under his weight. He stopped to gauge its stability while Bella strained to hear any noises coming from the basement. Edward descended fast after that. Step after step, and soon she'd heard his feet hit the ground. A small yellow glow came from below, but she could only see a small circle dimly lit by the candle. Everything else was pitch dark. The small circle moved around, first to the left, then to the right, and finally disappeared from her view, accompanied by Edward's echoing steps.

He stopped walking, and stayed that way for a while. A few minutes had gone by when he finally spoke.

"Bella?"

Her heart raced. What was down there? "Yes?" she croaked.

"You can come down."

_Oh, good._ She took a deep breath, relaxing her muscles. The same step that objected to Edward's weight bounced with her foot, but it didn't take long to get down there. It was cold and smelled musty, like mold. The candle was on top of a small table, and Edward was standing near it. Suddenly, another candle came on. He moved across the room and lit another one, giving Bella enough light to gauge her surroundings. She was in a cement room, a sort of basement. In front of her was an old desk with a computer on top, and in the corner was a shabby old bed. It was a small room with only one door, and it seemed uninhabited. Edward climbed the ladder and closed the hatch, isolating them from the outside world above.

"How did you know this was here?"

Edward shrugged. "I've been here before. It was a friend's."

"_Was_?"

He nodded. He didn't want to elaborate, so she wasn't going to push him. It was his choice not to talk about it. After all, he didn't push her either.

Bella didn't feel comfortable walking around, but still felt the need to check under the bed and behind the door. She didn't expect to find an arsenal of canned food and guns in there, but she did feel grateful for it. She tried to down a whole bottle of water in one sip, but Edward took it out of her hands. It was bad for her, apparently.

They'd eaten a can of peaches and another one of tuna, with Bella lying down on the surprisingly soft bed and Edward with his back against it when he finally spoke. Her eyes were closing, heavier than usual because she hadn't felt that comfortable in a while.

"I was here when it happened."

At first, she wasn't sure he'd spoken because his voice was so low. But he kept going.

"We were upstairs, downing bottle after bottle. We'd been laid off that day; the factory was closing. There were rumors there'd been strange attacks and the news talked about a new kind of virus, but we'd never paid much attention to it."

She sat straighter in bed, trying to listen to everything. She wanted to ask him to keep going, but didn't want to interrupt him.

"Emmett, the owner of the pub, mentioned there were some animal attacks nearby and that old Clearwater had died. But we didn't pay much attention to it. We'd never been close to the Quileutes," he sighed.

"But then…the door opened and a couple of guys from the factory came in. And behind them, came Harry Clearwater. Dragging himself, with blood on his face and the weirdest look…like he was empty. He…" Edward stopped talking and grabbed his hair, a nervous habit Bella had noticed.

She wanted to comb it with her fingers, caress his scalp. Would he let her?

"Well, let's just say only three of us survived. Emmett pulled me and Jasper down here, because we were closest to him. He was about to grab Leah, his bartender and Harry's daughter, when Harry got to her. You can't imagine…the look on her face."

His shoulders were shaking.

"And…"

He didn't talk for a long while, so she finished for him, very matter-of-factly.

"Once the freaks get to you, you're fucked."

He nodded and sighed.

"She hated me. But I can't get her out of my mind."

There was a long pause, and just when Bella thought he wasn't going to tell her more, he continued.

"We were here for a week. At that point there was still electricity, and we'd been connected to the web, watching the news on that old computer, twenty-four/seven. This was one of the first towns to be decimated. The army had no means to take care of it and decided to fix the problem by killing every single moving thing—dead or alive. When they said it was a safe zone, we waited a couple more days. Let me tell you…it was ugly upstairs when we finally got out. Then…we left. I parted ways with Jasper and Emmett in Atlanta. Never saw them again."

"Why did you part from them?" she whispered.

Edward just shrugged. Another one of his secrets.

"When we got out of here, the situation was already out of control. People—living people— were outnumbered five thousand to one. It seemed everyone was infected with the virus. When, for any reason, people died, they'd come alive again. Sort of. The CDC had no idea what was going on, as you probably remember."

Bella turned her body towards his and neared the edge of the bed. Her hand, as if on its own accord, reached to caress his face. But Edward chose that moment to move, lying down on the floor, still with his back towards her. She didn't get to touch him, to tell him that she understood.

"Tomorrow, we'll raid the pharmacy," Edward stated.

Silence took over the room. With Edward at arm's length—and yet so far from her—it took a while for Bella to drift off to sleep. That night was the first she dreamt about him.

**C~W~M**

**A/N:** So.. What will happen next?


	3. Chevy?

**A/N: **This chapter was beta'd by **hmmille** and preread by **Angmclure**. They are the best. Thank you, ladies. :)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer and of AMC. No copyright infringement is intended.

~C*W*M~

The human body was amazing. The way Bella's soft flesh curved up and down and up and down again as she lay on her right side mesmerized him.

Her brown hair, which reminded him of rich smooth chocolate, was spread out on the pillow. She was fast asleep, unaware of his wandering eyes, and still as gorgeous as when she was awake. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and it worried him.

The shelter was cold—especially at night—with concrete walls all the way up to the ceiling doing nothing but further cooling it down. He didn't want Bella to get sick from all of the temperature differences; hell, he didn't want Bella to get sick at all.

Edward reached his arm under the bed and palmed the moist floor, searching for what had been there the last time he'd looked. When his hand found the softness of the thick blanket—one his grandma would have given him on a cold day—he pulled it out from under the bed and unfolded it, spreading it over Bella. Her body relaxed slowly into the mattress, and with it so did Edward's uneasiness.

He sat on the floor and leaned against the mattress, taking a deep breath. One more sleepless night awaited him—but this one had a purpose; he had a plan to layout. He hadn't entered Forks just because it was on their way to Fort Benning. This was _his_ home town, the place where it had all started—at least for him. He'd told Bella the truth; there was no way in hell he'd lie to her since he had no desire to be buried alive. She was crazy enough to do it. He'd just not mentioned everything because some things were too painful to talk about.

~C*W*M~

Bella moved around the shelter. Edward couldn't be seen by Bella because he was already upstairs getting ready for the day, but he still pretended not to be straining to hear what she was doing.

He had left her an already opened can of pears and a nearly full bottle of water on the bedside table. He knew it wasn't much different from dinner the night before, but pears had different nutritional components than peaches, right? Either way, there wasn't much more to offer to her. He'd eaten canned fruit himself—peaches again—but it had expired much sooner than the one he'd left for Bella. Even if she had preferred peaches over pears—given the choice—he wouldn't have given them to her. They smelled funny. He just hoped it wouldn't make him sick.

While sitting down at the table to clean all the guns they were taking with them, Edward mulled over his thoughts. He'd need to get something to sooth the angry blisters on her skin and maybe some vitamins. She was way too skinny to be healthy. There was a pharmacy just around the corner, but he knew from experience that it was empty. He didn't want to go there, anyway; he had to go to the hospital. He'd just have to get a very good excuse to give to Bella.

Edward was shaken out of his thoughts by a loud thump followed by Bella's favorite curse word. A smile tugged on the corner of his lips as he put bullets inside the .32 revolver.

He'd woken her up earlier with a not so gentle shake and had left her alone—after she threw at him a murderous but awaken glare—giving her enough privacy to get ready. The creaking step on the wooden stairs revealed her presence even before her sleepy eyes emerged from behind the counter. He wanted to smile at her, but there was a chance she'd hate him in five minutes.

He moved with stealth around the pub, checking another gun for ammunitions on the table before grabbing two knives from the counter. He had to keep busy as he laid out the plan or her striking eyes would melt him in seconds. He liked her. In fact, he liked her more than he would ever admit, but that didn't erase the fact that she was a freaking mess when it came to surviving among the walking dead. He'd been surprised when he found her, but he'd been stunned when he saw how clumsy she actually was. She tripped on her own feet, couldn't run to save her life and had no sense of direction. How she'd managed to survive until now was a mystery.

"Here's the plan," Edward cleared his throat. "We're going to find a car with fuel in it. One that works. Then we'll go to the pharmacy. You're going to carry your knife and you'll be quiet—and by quiet I mean not a single word—until we get back into the basement. Okay?"

He knew he'd never been so…demanding—at the lack of a better term—with Bella before. Nor did he have the desire to do so. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and found her gaping at him, with her hair all messed up and her plump lips parting, reminding him of the little goldfish he'd had as a child. Bubbles was his name.

"You'd better use the toilet first," he added. Was he crossing some kind of line? He could tell by the incredulity stamped on Bella's face, coupled with the red that marred her cheeks, that he'd either embarrassed or angered her. Probably both.

She wasn't used to being ordered around. Not by him, at least. Nonetheless, her bladder was probably a very small one, because she would have a couple of sips of water and, after a while, wince when making quick movements or walk in a strange way. It was very distracting.

The only answer he got, just before she turned her back on him and walked towards the bathroom, was her middle finger.

~C*W*M~

The sun was already up and shiny when they finally made it out of the pub.

Bella had taken a lot longer than Edward thought was possible to get ready. He was quite certain she'd tried to dip her whole body into the small sink because she smelled fresh and her hair appeared to be wet.

Not that he'd come purposely close enough to smell her—well, he did. Who could blame him? Fresh soap smelled good.

"Can't we check that one?" she asked.

"No." It had been Eric Yorkie's truck. Edward had checked it for gas when they had first emerged from the pub, but it had been nearly empty. It was still sitting in the same place, just with fading paint now.

He could see from the corner of his eye that she was looking around, searching for another option, for sure. She was a stubborn woman. Hadn't he asked her to be quiet? Because it seemed to him she was chattier than usual. He knew the moment her eyes landed on the black Mercedes.

"What about that one?"

_Yeah, right._ "No."

"Why not?" she huffed.

"It just isn't a good option, that's all."

"Aren't we at least going to check it for fuel?"

_Oh, God. _Couldn't she just forget it and go for another one? He wasn't going to get inside _that_ car. And he'd never admit to whom it had belonged to.

He opted for deafness. Maybe she'd drop the subject. He kept walking down the street, alert but not really seeing anything around him. It felt like a strange place, not the cheery town it used to be. At his side, Bella kept trying to persuade him to try the car. It just…couldn't be fixed.

His eyes landed on the car he'd been looking for. He wasn't exactly sure where it was, because he hadn't been to that part of town since the event, but Jasper had told him where he'd parked the day they'd been laid out. _And,_ he'd filled the tank just before he went there. Edward just hoped there were no leaks in it.

"That one," Edward pointed to the 69 Chevy. "Is our ride."

Bella seemed surprised that Edward had talked to her—if she were a cat, all of her hair was surely sticking up. "What? That rusty thing?" she dismissed his idea. "It won't even start."

Edward was pretty sure it would indeed start. The car had been completely rebuilt the month before the disease had spread. Everything was new—except for the outside. Jasper had spent more money fixing that car than he would have if he'd just bought a new one. Everyone had called him nuts, and he'd told the same thing to every single person: _Don't judge Chevy. She just might surprise you. _

Edward repeated his thoughts to Bella. "That, over there, is Chevy."

"Chevy?" she snorted.

He didn't reply to her; there was no point in it.

"Seriously? Chevy?"

When Edward stayed quiet, Bella's snort evolved to full laughter. Between guffaws, she'd manage to say what sounded like "such an original name."

"Shhh." Edward was able to ignore her, but it still grated on his nerves. It worried him that a strayer could hear her. She had to be completely nuts.

"Keep your voice down," he asked, as they approached the car.

It seemed to Edward that the more he asked her to shut up, the more she'd talk.

"Aww…there aren't walkers in here, Eddy. The street is empty. Why are we even doing this?"

Boy, was she trying to get on his nerves. "It's Edward. And you don't know that."

"What?"

"There are walkers here, Bella. Will you please stop trying to get us killed?"

"_Are you trying to get us killed?" Emmett had screamed at him._

"_Just leave me alone!" Edward replied. _

"_Get the fuck in here, you dickhead!"_

"_No! Just let me go!" Edward tried to get free of Emmett's death grip, but Jasper helped the bartender and, together, they'd successfully shoveled him back into the shelter. _

"_You ain't going anywhere." Edward tried to talk back, but Emmett beat him to it. "Shut the fuck up."_

_He'd looked to his best friend Jasper for help, and received nothing but a small shrug. He had to get to the school and find his little girl, but neither of them seemed to understand. _

"_Please…" he'd pleaded._

_Emmett let go of his arms and Edward fell to the ground. _

"_You'll get killed," the burly guy told him._

"_I have to go."_

"_Fine!" Emmett huffed. "We're going with you."_

"Edward?"

Bella's scared voice pulled him back into the present. Her small hand was enveloping his trembling arm, and her big brown eyes were wide open.

He offered her what had to be the falsest smile ever. "I'm okay."

A moment went by in which her eyes didn't abandon his. She must have seen something in them that soothed her, because her grip slowly relaxed, and her comforting hand dropped by her side.

With a slow, deep breath, Edward drew his shameful eyes away from her and, step after step, approached the blue Chevy. He expected the car to be clean, free of lurkers, but Edward just had to be sure—for Bella's sake. He swept the dirty windows, one by one, with his palm, and peeked inside. For the first time that morning, he could hear his own breathing. He'd scared her.

"It's clean."

Edward felt his back pocket for the key he'd taken from the pub and opened the doors. The leather seat fit his body like a glove and, to his utter joy, it took only one try to get the baby rumbling. _Thank you, Jas._

"Beautiful."

"Great." There was a drop of sarcasm in Bella's voice as she rounded the car and got inside. "Now you speak to cars."

What should he tell her? That her craziness could be contagious?

"Does it even have fuel?"

"Yup."

"Okay. Let's go then." Bella reached for the handle and pulled the door with such force that it almost fell off its hinges. It had to have been heard throughout the town.

"What?" she asked.

He was desperate. What should he do with that woman? The way things were going, they'd be dead by sunset.

"You can't treat her like that!"

"Who?"

"Chevy."

Her eyebrows rose. "Fine. I apologize, Chevy."

"Don't mock it."

As Bella crossed her arms over her chest and stared ahead, Edward accepted the situation wasn't about to improve. He seriously considered aborting the mission, but in the end refused to do so. With a heavier foot than necessary, he stepped on the pedal and jolted the car forward.

It felt really good to drive a car…for a few moments. It almost felt like before, when everything was okay, when it was still normal. Then, he saw the town's pharmacy standing at the end of the street and felt nervous. He was kind of hoping Bella was distracted when they'd pass by, but his luck had never been that good.

"Hey! It was right there! Turn around, turn around, turn around!" she was nearly in panic, her hands pointing towards the building.

Edward gripped the wheel and explained. "Relax. We're not going to that pharmacy. The hospital has a much better one."

"What?"

He had hoped to get away with it. Hell, he still hoped so. They'd go in and check the pharmacy. If it was safe—as in zombie free—he'd leave Bella there for a while to pick up some supplies, while he'd go check the cafeteria. He didn't want her to know why; he didn't want her to see it. She'd just feel sorry for him and he wouldn't be able to handle it.

Edward drove the car to the outskirts of town in a stupor, parking only when they'd reached the rain-washed hospital. He stepped out of the car to find Bella already out, with her nose wrinkled and both her eyebrows raised. The smell of rotten corpses was unbelievable, nearly creating a bubble of stench around the building. If before Edward had suspected the army had placed the bodies and closed the walkers inside the hospital, now, he was absolutely sure.

"Are you going to tell me what we are _really_ doing here? Don't fuck with me, Edward."

He hated to be put against the wall. He freaking hated it. He wasn't going to tell her what he was going to do—what he had to do. It was_ his_ kid, not hers.

"This is the best pharmacy," he opted to say. "My ex-wife was a doctor here. I _know_ this is the best."

For a few seconds, Bella looked like she'd been punched, but she was fast to put herself together. "The hospital has to be filled with walkers, Edward. Can't you smell them?" She turned her back to him and stared at the building. "Hell, I could smell them all the way through town. I really think they're all stuck up in here."

"You can stay in the car, you know. In fact, I'd prefer if you did."

"I'm not going to stay in the car, Edward."

He knew, from the compassionate tone of her voice, that Bella, somehow, understood.

~C*W*M~

**A/N: **So… Who wants to guess what will happen next? :p


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